With Old Ghost Head’s warning, Xiao Lingyu and Chu Mingwei both focused their attention forward.
Between the crisscrossing branches, a faint mist lingered, and within it a human-shaped figure was slowly approaching.
Chu Mingwei’s expression grew grave. The figure was already right before them, yet his divine sense swept over it and detected nothing at all—no trace of life, no presence whatsoever. His heart tightened instantly. His right hand rested on the Thunder Bright Mirror, ready for a sudden strike.
A gust of wind passed.
The figure halted, as though listening intently to something.
A moment later, it suddenly exploded into motion—like lightning—lunging straight toward Xiao Lingyu and Chu Mingwei.
Amid a thunderous roar, Chu Mingwei pulled Xiao Lingyu back rapidly, retreating away from the swamp’s edge. The instant they stabilized, dozens of massive lightning bolts struck down onto the charging figure.
White mist rose in thick plumes.
The figure slowly dispersed… then slowly reformed again.
“Cang Ye!” Old Ghost Head cried out beside Xiao Lingyu.
“No… that’s not Cang Ye… could it be Cang Ye’s son?” Old Ghost Head stared at the rapidly shrinking silhouette in shock, almost unable to form coherent words.
Xiao Lingyu was equally stunned. The white mist recondensed, gradually forming into a small child—no more than four or five years old.
As the lightning dissipated, the figure became clear.
It was a fair, delicately carved child, soft and pale as jade, wearing a red bellyband and standing completely naked. He blinked his large, watery eyes at them.
For a moment, Xiao Lingyu didn’t know how to react.
Then the child spoke.
“Ah-Lü says you are bad people. You want to take my father away.”
The moment the word “father” fell, countless vines burst out from the swamp, shooting toward the two of them.
These vines were thick as a child’s arm, covered in sharp barbs and dripping with mud, striking with ferocious intent.
Caught off guard, Xiao Lingyu barely had time to react. Chu Mingwei immediately drew his Qinglin Sword and stepped in front of him.
The sword let out a clear cry, expanding as it slashed downward.
Clang!
A metallic sound rang out. The vines were completely unharmed, as though the strike had hit iron instead of plant matter.
“Zhu Xier!” Xiao Lingyu called sharply.
A small pink pig charged forward, releasing continuous streams of demonic fire.
The vines seemed to fear the flames, retreating quickly and coiling in the air above the swamp like living serpents.
Chu Mingwei returned to Xiao Lingyu’s side. The two stood shoulder to shoulder, staring at the child warily.
Old Ghost Head’s voice trembled in disbelief.
“It’s Cang Ye… he is Cang Ye. How did Cang Ye become like this?”
“Who is Cang Ye?” Chu Mingwei asked.
Old Ghost Head glanced at the child, still shaken.
“Cang Ye is one of the Three Holy Sons of the demon race, on the same level as Jing Zhan. In ancient times, during the war between humans and demons, he once held off three human sages alone. From then on, he was known as the War God of the demon race.”
“Everyone said Cang Ye was tall, imposing, and decisive—silent and fearsome. Countless demons revered him. How… how did he become a child like this?”
Even Xiao Lingyu could not connect the naked, soft-looking child in front of him with the legendary war god Old Ghost Head described.
Chu Mingwei, however, paid little attention to Cang Ye’s identity. His priority was rescuing Luo Shaohan.
“Lingyu, I’ll draw him away. You find Shaohan.”
“Understood.”
The moment he spoke, Chu Mingwei charged forward with his sword.
The child puffed up his cheeks in displeasure and rose into the air, vines surging once again.
“Cang Ye, stop!” Luo Shaohan’s voice suddenly rang out.
“Shaohan!”
“Father!”
Several voices overlapped.
The swamp churned violently. It split apart, and Luo Shaohan slowly rose up, seated on a massive chair.
Chu Mingwei immediately retreated to Xiao Lingyu’s side. They both looked over.
Luo Shaohan’s hands and feet were bound to the chair, his face flushed red with embarrassment.
“Father!”
The child shot forward and clung tightly to Luo Shaohan’s chest.
Luo Shaohan was completely restrained and could only endure the situation as the child rubbed against him, calling him “father” with pure attachment. His entire face turned red like a cooked shrimp.
The situation had turned absurd beyond belief.
Xiao Lingyu could barely keep a straight face. From what he could tell, the child had no hostility toward Luo Shaohan—he simply treated him as something he owned and refused to let go.
Chu Mingwei also observed calmly, focusing more on the child than Luo Shaohan. He realized the same thing: there was no true malice, only possessiveness.
Old Ghost Head, however, was laughing uncontrollably inside the soul tool, rolling around in hysterics.
“Cang Ye… Cang Ye! This is too ridiculous—Cang Ye!”
Just as he was laughing at his peak—
A voice suddenly rang out behind them.
“Qing Yi.”
Old Ghost Head’s laughter froze instantly.
At the forest path behind them, ancient trees parted on their own, revealing a figure walking forward in a calm, unhurried manner.
As the person approached, Old Ghost Head’s emotions violently destabilized.
Xiao Lingyu instinctively thought of two words.
Qing Ming.
Chu Mingwei frowned and stepped in front of Xiao Lingyu, gripping the Thunder Bright Mirror.
“Anyone who calls out ‘Qing Yi’ is not from the cultivation world,” he said coldly. “Another survivor of the ancient era… like Jing Zhan.”
The newcomer finally stepped forward.
“Qing Ming.”
Cang Ye seemed to recognize him and called out excitedly.
But Qing Ming ignored him completely. His gaze was fixed entirely on Xiao Lingyu’s right hand.
The black ring.
The Soul-Containing Bracelet remained silent.
Qing Ming’s expression darkened slightly.
“…Qing Yi, you refuse to see me?”
Inside the bracelet, Old Ghost Head’s emotions surged wildly.
After a long silence, he was forcibly pulled out.
A green phantom emerged before everyone.
“Qing Yi…” Qing Ming’s voice trembled as he reached out.
The green figure stepped back repeatedly, shaking his head.
Qing Ming’s expression dimmed.
Then, without warning, he raised his hand and pointed.
A golden light flashed.
Old Ghost Head shrank instantly into a palm-sized mass and flew into Qing Ming’s grasp.
“Qing Ming, you bastard!” Old Ghost Head shouted furiously.
Qing Ming looked at the struggling green mass, then slowly smiled.
“You are still the same… Qing Yi.”
He then lifted his gaze toward Xiao Lingyu’s group.
A golden light flashed.
Xiao Lingyu’s vision went dark.
Everything vanished.